


Rightful Ruler

by redlizard_rambles



Category: Dragon Age: Origins
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-12
Updated: 2020-09-12
Packaged: 2021-03-06 18:56:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 817
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26423743
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redlizard_rambles/pseuds/redlizard_rambles
Summary: Valda Aeducan wasn't conscripted, but she wasn't going down easily in the Deep Roads. Finding allies in high places, she returns to Orzammar to claim what is hers.
Comments: 4
Kudos: 3





	Rightful Ruler

Even Gorim didn’t know her true intentions. While he was exclusively loyal to her, and a decent roll on the stone, it was easier for him to also fall for the “delicate princess” shtick she’d perfected over the years. It made asking for favors easier, which Trian always failed to understand, barking orders and making demands because it was his “Stone-given right.” 

Bah, Trian was a fool. Bhelan was no better with his scurrying and schemes. Always trying to keep the upper hand from the shadows. Valda had greater ambitions than being yet another commander of the dwarven forces, which were dwindling by the day. 

Trian was too staunch and trapped in tradition. Bhelan was too open with ambitions. But she played both sides well. She truly thought that at the time. 

Every now and then the claws came out. Dealing with that fool Vollney, though she should have had him killed publicly. Then handling Lord Dace’s attempt to bring dishonor to her family. Too bad she couldn’t have killed him in the Provings. Killing Mandar would have been a waste, but a part of her wanted to inflict as much damage as possible in that regard as well. 

No, it was easier to tell Trian and Bhelan what they wanted to hear. Too bad Bhelan seemed to be ahead of her for once. Trian sure was surprised his baby sister delivered the final blow; the dagger he tried to deny her buried in his chest. 

Banishment to the Deep Roads had been a minor hiccup. She assumed she and Gorim would go to the surface together and could return with Surfacers and others cast aside from Orzammar. But the Deep Roads ended up being far much better. 

It didn’t take long to wipe out a few darkspawn and take all their armor and gear, and there was no shortage of dwarves recently banished for their own crimes. Nothing was as nice as her noble armor, that fit her just so perfectly. Or the dagger, sparking alive with lyrium pounded into the metal was a fine blade. Alas, these were just things, and soon she would have them all. 

It was difficult for the first few days, hiding under corpses to keep unnoticed when the darkspawn groups were too large. Their eyes seemed just as good, if not better than a dwarf’s, but they were also easily drawn to movement or sound, and throwing a rock against a far wall would easily distract them for her to slip by. 

She did not expect the Grey Wardens. They were a fresh group, different from the imposing man who was at her ceremony. They were so fed up with Orzammar’s politics, it was easy for Valda to explain her case to the throne, while only omitting a few key things. 

It was her voice that helped secure the Anvil of the Void, despite the Commander’s disapproval. 

They would be back soon, two days at most, the group moved quickly, despite how large they were, with their dogs, and tiny elven people. 

When they once again entered the thaig proper, Valda breathed a sigh of relief. She would be presented to the Assembly with Caridin’s crown on her head and there was little anyone could do. 

\--

“And that’s why you lost, Bhelan. You plan and scheme, but can’t think in the moment. You should have had me killed the second I left these halls.”

Bhelan sneered, unable to speak past the gag in his mouth. 

“Nug got your tongue?” Valda mocked and kicked the stool from out under his feet. 

While gravity did it’s job, she moved around his quarters, taking anything of interest. 

Once the struggling stopped, she removed the binding behind his hands and the gag from his mouth, leaving the door just open. 

She walked boldly through the Palace,  _ her _ Palace, smiling and thanking the guards and soldiers for all of their hard work. 

When word reached the Queen of her brother’s unfortunate suicide, probably so shamed he sided against her, when she was always meant to be ruler, Valda was appropriately grief strikened. She promised Rica that her and sweet baby Endrin would be taken care of.

If there were any suspicions against her, they never reached her ears. And her ears were everywhere now. The Dusters were a treasure trove of fighters, spies, and thieves, all ready to be anywhere other than Dust Town. The newly named “Dragon Caste” was loyal to their Queen and no one else. Word was sent to surfacers that Orzammar would welcome them back with open arms. 

When dissent finally reared its head, they were some of the first  _ volunteers _ for the newly instated Golem Program. Valda watched each one, as scalding lyrium was poured into the holes that would become balls of fire for eyes. 

The Wardens needed an army, and she would provide it, just like she promised. 

**Author's Note:**

> This is a (mostly) standalone chapter from my long fic, Long May He Reign. I hope you enjoyed Valda!


End file.
